AMATEUR XXX STORIES

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ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:

A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - I - J - K - L - M - N - O - P - Q - R - S - T - U - V - W - X - Y - Z

CNF 05 girls were the One Year Girls

WARNING: The chapters in this story contain

scenes of graphic sex involving lesbianism,

masturbation, mechanical sex acts,

bestiality, and bondage, all with strong

undercurrents of pain, and, if you can

believe it, romance. In code, that is [f ff

fd ffdd mech bd pain rom]. If subject

matter of this nature does not interest you,

do not read any farther.

All events in this story are fictional.

(DUH!) All the characters in this story are

fictional. This is a fantasy, i.e. a place

where physical acts and human responses are

not limited to or necessarily based in

reality. Therefore, some acts and responses

described are physically impossible or

physiologically improbable. Do not try them

yourself, especially alone. This story is

intended for the salacious entertainment of

consenting adults, not as an instructional

manual. Again, do not try to do any of the

things described in this story. You will

injure yourself or your partner.

If you are under 18 years of age, go away.

This will burn your eyeballs.

If material of a strong sexual nature is

prohibited where you are, go away.

By continuing, the reader accepts all

responsibility for any disgust, revulsion,

jail sentences, or pleasure that result from

reading this story.

You have been warned!

That said, enjoy!..:)

NightShade

*******









Cindy's New Friends

By NightShade.

Chapter 5

When Cindy managed to make her way back down to the

front desk, there was an `Urgent' message waiting. The

Chairperson of the library's Board of Directors had

called for Mrs. Cross while Cindy had been unavailable,

and from the message it was clear that she was angry.

As Cindy read the message, her heart began to pound and

her knees almost gave way. She was to take a package

from the library to a person named Mary Sheffield at

the Sheffield Estates. Mrs. Cross herself had called

later to make sure Cindy remembered to deliver that

package on her way home tonight. In fact, she was to

leave as soon as she could.

Sheffield Estates! The name sent shivers up and down

her spine. Max lived there! The thought that she

might see Max was the only thought in her mind.

Nothing else mattered. Not Mrs. Cross, the bumps, the

bruises, or the rapidy darkening evening sky. Only

Max.

The estate was located out of town at an angle slightly

away from where Cindy lived, but there was a shortcut

from the far side of the estate property through the

woods over to her cottage. It was a narrow path she

had used once or twice before. It was probably the

same one that Max had used to visit her. It was safe,

even in the dark, but it was very bumpy.

The temporary worker at the front desk was just walking

out the door as Cindy came downstairs from collecting

the books Mrs. Sheffield had wanted, giving her a

dispirited wave without even looking around. She had

passed on the messages, and couldn't wait to get home

to her tape-delayed Soaps. Fuckin' nuisance, having to

work...

Cindy picked up the package from the front desk, and

carefully locked up the library. Gingerly getting on

her bike, she checked the directions to the estate and

started on the long ride to where she might see Max.

She rode along that afternoon in an erotic daze. Every

tiny bump in the road jarred her bicycle seat into her

sore ass, reminding her of her ride on the machine.

Even the tiny cracks in the pavement sent a thrill

coursing through her, flooding her mind with memories

and her cunt with juice. She subconsciously began to

look for as many potholes and bumps to ride over as she

could find.

The pedaling, bouncing and swerving to find the bumps

caused her bra-less tits to swing erratically, her sore

nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of her work

shift. Shock waves rocketed up and down her spine with

every tiny scrape against the rough material. The

puffy little buttons were gluttons for the titillating

punishment, reaching out from her breasts like brave

little soldiers on the long ride.

As she approached the estates, she also was approaching

another breathless climax. It seemed almost routine

for her today - almost! Pedaling the bike had worked

her thighs back and forth and over and over. Each

cycle of the pedals put considerable pressure on her

swollen clit.

She had discovered on the trip to work a couple of days

ago that squeezing her thighs together when she pedaled

would trap that tiny bud of flesh between them. If she

leaned forward over the handlebars and kind of sat on

the horn of the bicycle seat at the same time she

squeezed her thighs together, she could make her slit

feel funny - but really good. The next day she had

tipped the slender bicycle seat upward to make it less

obvious to passersby that she was pressing the horn up

against her cunt and clit. She was learning so many

things, never mind that some of them did not seem

normal.

Now, however, without her panties to prevent

penetration, the upturned tapered horn of that bicycle

seat was acting just like a short prick. Her juices

had lubricated the smooth leather of the seat almost

before she had left the library parking lot.

She was riding with her heart in her throat as she

approached the gates to the mansion, so close to the

edge of her next cum. She needed just a little more

time. The estate driveway had speed bumps in front of

the gate that were high, and, not being prepared for

them, the front tire of the bike hit the first one

harder than she meant it to. The horn of the seat

drove deep into her cunt.

"OHHHHH, GGGGOOOODDD!"

The back tire hit the first bump just before the first

tire hit the second.

"Ohhhh ----OOOHHHHHH SHHHIIITTT!!"

There were six speed bumps..

She was still shaking from her orgasm as she managed to

brake to a stop. Slowly extricating the horn of the

seat from her pussy, she walked her bike over to the

gate and buzzed the house on the intercom.

"Hello," came the metallic voice after a short wait.

"Hi. My name is Cindy. From the library. Mrs. Cross

was to deliver a package to you tonight, but she

couldn't make it." she said shakily. "She, uh, she

sent me."

"Come," said the voice shortly.

Cindy giggled at the irony of the lady's choice of

words and started up the drive as soon as the gate had

opened far enough to let her push her bike through.

'Cum' was one of the new words she had learned about

just this last week from one of the less naughty

magazines kept in the 'mature' section on the second

floor. Pretty tame stuff compared to the fourth floor,

but educational for Cindy, nonetheless.

The first thing Cindy noticed about Sheffield Estates

was the long row of kennels along the far side of the

house. The house was beautiful and classic, the

grounds were immaculate and lush. But it was the

kennels that drew her attention. There were about

fifteen dogs that she could see and they all looked big

and strong. Without exception, they were all males and

they all were watching her with a quivering intensity

as she slowly rode up the drive. It sent a shiver

through her, almost as if she and the canines could

smell the other's pheromones over such a distance.

"That's where Max lives." She focused on that thought,

on her lover. "I hope I get to see him."

Mary watched the young girl ride up. She noticed Cindy

staring intently in the direction of the barking dogs

on her ride up the hill.

"I do hope she isn't afraid of big dogs," she frowned.

Mary misinterpreted Cindy's rapt attention for fear.

"I'd hate to lose her at this point. Well, we'll just

have to take it as it comes."

Cindy rang the bell and stood back from the door,

continually glancing towards the kennels. Her hopes of

sighting her long-absent lover were high. Her heart

was pounding and her breath was fast and shallow. The

door swung open and a stirringly beautiful - and

vaguely familiar - woman stood before her.

Cindy's heart stopped its rapid beating. Of course!

She had seen this woman before, and she knew exactly

where. She was one of the women in the pictures where

they were licking and sucking on each other's pussies.

She blushed as she imagined the stately woman before

her in that lewd embrace. The two women in the

pictures had had their mouths and tongues in between

each other's legs. You could see their tongues

sticking in and everything! The mental image in

Cindy's mind inserted her own image into the picture,

just she and this woman standing before her, doing

those things to each other..

Then Cindy saw him, and her expression changed to one

of pure innocent lust.

Mary again misinterpreted Cindy's look. She constantly

had men and women stare at her. Although it never

failed to excite her, it became tiring after a while.

Her thoughts about Cindy were, ironically, almost

identical to those in Cindy's mind. This young girl
attracted to her.

Mary did not know that Max had padded silently up

behind her. She was totally unprepared for Cindy's

lunge toward her.

Mary was bringing up her arms to ward off the charging

teenager, when she heard Cindy squeal "MAAAAAAX!" The

look of puzzlement on her face was priceless, but

neither of the other two in the entryway were paying

much attention to her.

The big dog was completely engulfed in the love-starved

girl's arms. He looked up at his Mistress with what

could only be a guilty face and a sly grin. Mary

guessed immediately that something had gone on between

them, even if he hadn't fucked her. Whatever it was,

the girl had obviously enjoyed it - and wanted a repeat

performance. Mary returned the mischievous grin and

nodded her approval. Max's tail quickened its pace.

"Oh Max, I've missed you so much. Why didn't you come

back to visit me? I left water out for you everyday.

Oh, Max, it's so good to see you. You feel so good.."

The words poured out of the kneeling girl before she

realized what she was saying.

"Well, hello to you, too!" said the dark-haired woman,

with a grin. "I'm Mary. I see you two already know

each other."

Sheepishly, Cindy got to her feet, but kept her hand

firmly, possessively on the dog's head, petting him

between the ears.

"Uuuhh, yeah," Cindy started. "Uuhh, Max came to visit

me one day. I live over across the valley." She

pointed in the approximate direction of her cottage.

"He must have taken the short cut and stopped by to get

a drink of water." she faltered. Cindy was a poor

liar.

"Yeah sure," Mary thought. "A drink of water, and a

bite to eat, I'll bet. And you loved it!"

Mary knew what Max liked. Hell, she should. She had

given him all of his special training personally.

"Shit, dogs are just like men. They will fuck any

hole, anywhere anytime," was what she told her

customers. It wasn't the kid's fault Max had seduced

her. Besides, unlike a man, a dog always came back.

She decided to let her off the hook. "You have a

package for me?" Mary reminded her.

Cindy reached into her pocket and reluctantly pulled

out the parcel. Once it was delivered, she had no more

reason to stay. As the awkward parcel came out, her

bloody, soiled panties slipped out unnoticed by her

onto the floor.

Mary smiled to herself. "So young, so na‹ve, so

gullible, so beautiful. There ought to be a law.."

She stopped herself when she realized that there

probably were a couple hundred laws against what she

had planned for the girl, but that hadn't stopped her

yet.

"Why don't I get you a drink and you can refresh

yourself before you head back?" Mary asked her. "You

must have had a long ride out here."

"That would be nice, Thank You," Cindy answered

quickly, not wanting to leave Max. She wasn't sure

exactly what she wanted to happen - especially here in

this stranger's house, but the nearness of the dog drew

her like a magnet.

"Let's go down into the playroom," said the older
woman. "I can get you something from the bar down

there."

Mary led the way into a room at the bottom of a short

stairway and opened the heavy door. She went over to a

bar recessed into the wall and poured two large drinks.

A discrete tip of a bottle with clear liquid and

Cindy's drink was loaded with an extra kick of alcohol.

"Cheers," she said, toasting Cindy. She watched as

Cindy hesitantly sipped at her drink, and then, liking

the taste, swallowed it down in one gulp.

"I don't drink much," said Cindy, holding out her glass

for a refill. "These are good. What are they?

"These are Margaritas," said Mary. "My own mixture."

She poured Cindy's glass to the brim, again with the

extra-lethal mixture.

Cindy drank the second drink down like it was a soft

drink and put the empty glass on the bar.

"I, uh noticed the speed bumps on the way in. Are they

new?" Cindy mentally kicked herself. She wasn't good

at small talk, but she was making a real effort to drag

out her visit. Max was right there beside her and she

couldn't bear to leave yet. But speed bumps..?

"Well, yes, they are," Mary replied with one eyebrow

raised. She hadn't a clue what Cindy was talking about

or where she was headed. "I, uh, I needed to slow down

the delivery trucks.

"Say, Cindy, why don't you make yourself at home here

and visit with Max for a while. I have to make a

couple of phone calls and put this package away."

Mary winked at Max and nodded slightly. That was her

signal to him that it was 'OK' to play with the new

fuck-toy any way he wanted. He would not have to wait

for permission to use her.

Max woofed eagerly and gave a small jump of excitement.

His mistress didn't willingly let him mark other female

humans very often. His feet stuttered on the floor in

eagerness. He could smell that this one was already

aroused. He was anxious to get started.

Mary grinned. "She must really be a hot one. Max

never gets that excited." She felt a dark jealousy

take root in her heart. She could not let this

relationship grow anymore.

As Mary left the playroom, she flipped the hidden
switch that activated the video cameras that covered

every inch of the room in any light. Smiling

contentedly to herself, she proceeded up to the control

room to watch the show that she knew was going to

happen.

.or she didn't know Max.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tan Chew, or 'Joe Tan' to his Occidental colleagues,

read the latest dispatch from Quan-Loc he had received

over the hidden channel on the spy satellite. Not even

his older brother, Tan Phoc, knew about that special

channel, much less the chinese military. It was his

own personal communications channel, and each of the 12

spy satellites the chinese military would launch into

orbit in the next two years had one or more hidden
features.

Joe was Number Two son in a relatively unknown family.

Unknown, that is, outside of the inner circles of the

Chinese government. Inside those circles, the Tan

family was the equivalent of the entire Western

military-industrial complex. In typical Oriental

fashion, the chinese had realized the need for such a

research oriented complex. They also realized the

inevitability of the profit, greed and corruption that

the existence of such an organization would generate.

They therefore correctly reasoned that with this

massive complex in the hands of one family instead of

many different families, the total amount of the profit

and corruption would be contained and would be less

overall. The Tan's, although not of pure chinese
ancestry, were chosen for this dubious honor.

As Number One Son, Phoc had been trained to run the

huge complex, negotiating contracts and setting

production goals. His education had been entirely

Chinese, and he distained anything Western. Except

blonde women. These excited his jaded passions as

nothing else, but none had survived their first and

last night with him. It was his secret, closely

guarded. As far as he knew only one other person, his

best spy and his procurer, knew of his secret. His

other secret, that he had viciously murdered his father
to accelerate his assumption of the family leadership

was widely known. Phoe went so far as to encourage the

spread of that secret.

Joe, on the other hand, had been educated in the West,

graduating at the top of his class at Princeton. The

course of his postgraduate work confused his advisors,

as he took advanced courses in several different

scientific disciplines, from aeronautics to

astrophysics to microelectronics. He excelled at all

the different disciplines, driven by a hidden force

that pushed him into biochemistry and pharmacology,

metallurgy and economics.

After seven years of attending seemingly random courses

from the leading experts in several Universities

throughout the West, Joe had suddenly gone home to head

up the research and development sections of the Tan

family's vast interests. And immediately began to

chafe under his brother's unimaginative leadership.

But such was the life for a Number Two son. To all

outward appearance, he was living the life of a prince,

no want or desire unfulfilled.

Currently he was flying east over the vast deserts of

the American Southwest, headed for a small obscure

airport in one of the landlocked middle states. He had

had to divert to San Francisco briefly to take care of

some business, but, glancing down and smiling a self-

satisfied grin, that business was now complete.

He wasn't sure if the small girl sitting by his side

knew just how big a role she had played in the

diversion, but he guessed she didn't. Her family had

been the primary contact with Western businesses for

the Tans, as well as the base of their industrial

espionage. The girl's mother had made the mistake of

secretly sending a family portrait to her parents when

the girl had been two years old. That had been 5 years

ago.

Joe had acquired that portrait 3 years ago, never mind

how, and his first glimpse of the perfect china doll

features of the little girl had sealed their fate. It

had taken him three years, but he had finally

maneuvered Phoc into calling for her family's

extermination. There were no half-measures in this

business. Because of his Western contamination and the

sensitivity of the task, Joe knew he would be called

upon to carry out the sentence. Best of all, none of

the scurrilous and false reports could be traced back

to him. They had all come from his brother's own spy

within Joe's organization.

The little girl's future was all mapped out, though she

was unaware of that, just as she was unaware of the

role Joe had played in her family's fiery and horrible

deaths. Joe and Liu, his bodyguard, had unexpectedly

called to visit the girl's family. He was 'Uncle Joe'

to her and she had given him a big hug before greeting

him formally, as she was being trained. As usual when

he visited, he stayed with them at the family compound.

Last night he and Liu had gone from room to room, duct-

taping mouths, hands and feet, accounting for all of

her family - aunts, uncles and cousins included - as

they worked silently into the wee hours of the morning.

Liu produced another body about the size of the seven-

year old from her large carry-on bag. With the body

count complete, Joe had burned the sleeping section of

the compound to the ground, killing all inside.

Without a remorseful thought, Joe and Liu had then

spirited the sleeping girl to the airport and were now

headed for the second part of the trip. She would

never be missed.

For the next five years, until she was 12 or 13, the

little girl would be pampered beyond any Western

imagination. Her days would be filled with tutors,

nannies, cooks, maids, and so on. But no other

children. Although she would be one of five girls in a

special building, none had any idea of the others. Few

even knew of the building.

These girls were the One Year Girls, known by that name

because of their expected life-span after they went to

live with Joe. Only one, Liu, had survived longer and

that was because she had tricked the new One Year girl
into taking her place on the night of her execution.

One Year girls were educated and trained for the sole

purpose of bringing pleasure to Joe. No one else. At

around age 11, the girls were begun on a heavy regimen

of the drugs he had begun providing to Mary Sheffield.

These herbal drugs enhanced and accelerated the girl's

sexual development, physically and mentally. By the

time the girls were 12 or 13, they were fully developed

physically, and primed and ready to explode sexually.

Usually the girls had to be kept restrained to keep

from taking their own virginities, something Joe

coveted above all else.

For two nights each year, the rookie One Year girl and

the veteran One Year girl would spend time together.

With Joe. By the end of one year with him, there was

little left that the One Year girl hadn't experienced.

Certainly nothing Joe could think of had been omitted

and he was very perverted. The veteran girl would

bring the rookie to Joe's bed, arouse her and then hold

her down while Joe deflowered her in one mighty thrust.

He loved the screams of pain that that sudden

impalement caused them and would inevitably ejaculate

very quickly. As the screaming subsided, turning into

silent whimpers and then sighs of pleasure as their

years of training and conditioning took over, Joe would

find himself hard once more. It had never failed to

arouse him to a second bout. He would look for and

find the look of pride, of fulfillment the deflowered

girl received from having made him ejaculate into her

body. This was what they lived for, what they had been

conditioned for, what they had longed for this past

year.

The next night would be a repeat of the first, being

led into his room by the older girl, seduced and held

down by her. This time, however, his target would be

her virginal anus. This time the screams didn't stop.

There were no sighs of pleasure for her. Joe often was

able to penetrate her tender orifice three or four

times that second night, especially if she kept

screaming. Often bleeding, the young girl would be

sedated and carried back to her quarters, left alone

for three or four nights to recover.

The third night, the veteran One Year girl would come

to Joe alone. She would be quickly stripped and bound,

an activity she was used to by this time. Then she

would be lead to an underground compound, taken to a

large round room with observation windows all the way

around, tied by a rope around her neck so that she was

positioned on her elbows and knees and left then alone.

To the veteran One Year Girls, this forced doggy

position caused them no alarm, as Joe had used and

abused them repeatedly over the past year for his

entertainment, including breeding them with all manner

of animals and machines. Usually these girls did not

realize the danger they were in until they saw the

crazed eyes of the mature male baumkind rushing towards

them in a mating frenzy. Some of the more fortunate

girls were facing the wrong way when the small door in

the wall was opened and they never saw their death

approaching.

This ceremony they were a part of was a reward for the

outstanding services allowed to one baumkind agent each

year. For all of their pain and suffering, they got

the opportunity to try to copulate. Joe figured the

mature males were going to die shortly anyway from the

dangerous levels of hormones released into their system

by the onset of puberty, so he devised this secret

ceremony as an incentive to one group of his

organization while solving a messy little problem in

another at the same time. Dead girls didn't spread

secrets. And after one year, they became jaded. He

preferred the fear and innocence of that first year.

He had come up with this solution early on in his work

with the baumkind, when the first genetically altered

specimens had reached puberty. At first no one had any

idea what was happening in the lab, but the horny

little bastards were running around rutting with

anything that had an orifice, with fatal consequences

for the fuckees. Gender didn't matter to the

screeching little devils, nor did the hole even have to

be animate. Joe had witnessed the rape of several Coke

bottles those first few frustrating months.

Autopsy reports on the mutants had indicated high

levels of testosterone as well as multiple ruptured

arteries in the lungs, brain and penis. The arterial

ruptures were the cause of death for the baumkind

males. Their chosen mates, however, had all been

ripped to shreds by the razor sharp claws. Joe had

finally contained the problem with massive doses of

steroids, dampening the sexual development of the male

baumkind. This had two benefits. First, it gave him

about 3 to 4 more useful years from the little buggers.

Second, by carefully creating a myth about the new

ceremony, he gained an almost religious-like devotion

from the secret agents. He hadn't lost one yet.

He gazed once more at the porcelain-like child in the

seat beside him. She was sitting quietly, her trust in

her 'uncle' complete. The passions that this fragile

little girl and others like her excited in him was his

deepest darkest secret, one he considered a weakness,

but one he couldn't control. He had gone to great

lengths to isolate this part of his life, but, even as

he knew his brother's uncontrollable secret passion for

blonde women, so too, he feared his brother knew of his

secret. In his brother's place, he would have.

Joe felt that secrets were weaknesses. He also knew

that weaknesses could be exploited.

End of Chapter